


Lies and Misunderstandings

by Kayim



Category: Common Law (TV)
Genre: M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: Another counselling session leaves Travis and Wes not speaking to each other, and this time it's even worse than usual.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smallearthcat (vamplover82)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamplover82/gifts).



Wes could feel the vibrations rising up through the cheap metal table. The lights flashed in a seemingly random pattern, throwing stripes of blue, red and purple across his hands and the still full bottle of beer he held in them. He looked around, eyes glancing over bodies writhing on the dance floor. And the booths. And most of the remaining empty spaces.

He saw Travis from the corner of his eye, walking towards him, one hand in his pocket and the other casually swinging a bottle of beer by his side. Wes envied the carelessness that his partner exuded even when they were working. Purposefully looking anywhere but in Travis’ direction, Wes was still completely aware of the other man’s presence, feeling him approach even while he was turned away.

Without speaking, Travis slid onto the high stool next to him, putting his own beer on the table next to the one Wes had barely touched. He leaned in close, even though the pounding music would more than likely drown out his words.

“We’re being watched. And I’m sorry.”

Wes, distracted for a moment by the warmth of Travis’ breath against his neck, pulled away, confused.

Travis threw him an apologetic smile before bringing his hands to the side of Wes’ face and kissing him.

* * *

_THE DAY BEFORE  
_

“Thank you, as always, for coming,” Dr Ryan said, crossing her legs and offering a smile to each of them. “This week’s topic is going to be a difficult one for most of you, but I think it’s an important step towards getting to understand your partner.”

Wes grimaced, instinctively understanding that whatever Dr Ryan was about to say was going to be something he really didn’t want to hear.

“We need to all understand that despite being in a happy relationship, it’s still perfectly normal to be attracted to other people.”

He looked around the group. Both Peter and Dakota were nodding and smiling as though they were in on some secret, which came as little surprise. The Dumonts were both looking at the floor, and he was pretty sure that neither of them wanted to be there that week any more than he did. Clyde and Rozelle actually looked interested in what the good doctor was saying.

He chose not to look at Travis.

“So for the next 10 minutes, I’d like you all to discuss with your partner what you find attractive in other people. Yes, Wes?”

Wes lowered the hand he’d raised. “I’m pretty sure I know everything about Travis’ taste in women. Can I be excused?”

Dr Ryan smiled in that way that Wes had come to realize meant that he’d just stuck his foot in his mouth and she was about to say something to humiliate him.

“I’m quite sure that if you ask the right questions, you’ll discover something new about Travis’ taste in people that you weren’t already aware of. Am I correct, Travis?”

He turned to see Travis give a little snort of laughter. “I think I can probably come up with something that my partner doesn’t expect to hear,” he replied, winking gratuitously at her.

With a sigh, Wes turned his chair so he was facing Travis. “Let’s go then. Surprise me with your hidden depths.”

Travis grinned at him. “Well, I’m mainly attracted to blonds.”

“And brunettes and redheads,” Wes added under his breath, a little disappointed when Travis chose to ignore him.

“But mainly I’m attracted to someone who can argue with me. Someone who knows what they want in life and will fight for it. Someone who will pull me up when I’m being an ass, and who understands that not everything I say is intended to start a fight.”

Wes looked at his partner. That wasn’t what he expected to hear in the slightest – he’d anticipated more details of height and weight and butt size.

“And I’m attracted to people who are taller than me,” he added with another grin, as if reading Wes’ mind.

There was something about what Travis had said that was bugging Wes, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. 

“So how about you, partner? What type of woman turns you on?”

Wes sighed, relegating his confusion to the back of his mind. “Why do you always have to be so crude, Travis? The question was about attraction, not sex.”

“So you don’t think the two are intricately linked?” Travis asked, leaning forward in his seat. His voice was questioning, rather than the judgmental tone that Wes had come to expect. “You can be attracted to someone without it meaning you want to have sex with them?”

“Of course. Do you really want to have sex with every woman you’re attracted...” he started to ask, then remembered who he was talking to. “Wait, no, of course you do.”

Travis sighed and shook his head. “You really don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Wes was painfully aware that the rest of the group had stopped their conversations and had all, including Dr Ryan, turned around to watch the grand finale of the _Wes-and-Travis-Show_.

It irritated Wes more than Travis’ challenge had done.  He felt his heart start hammering in his chest with the challenge.  Damn Travis for being able to get to him so easily.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know enough about you,” he snapped. “You’re attracted to pretty much any woman who looks your way, and several who don’t, and you’re happier taking them back to your trailer than to go for a meal somewhere. And if you see them more than twice, there’s a pretty good chance of you dumping them before date number three.”

“Screw you, Wes."  Travis' gentle tone didn't match the words, and he stayed leaning back in his chair.  He had his arms crossed over his chest ( _classic defensive position_ , Wes' interviewing experience helpfully pointed out), and looked more disappointed than annoyed.

"You want to know about me? I’ll tell you. I’ve only ever had sex with three women in my life, and I didn’t sleep with any of them until we’d been dating for at least a month. Yes, I invite women back to my trailer, but I have always slept on the couch and given them my bed. And the longest relationship I ever had was in college when I dated a guy called Shawn for 18 months before he dumped me for a varsity cheerleader and broke my goddamn heart.”

The room was completely silent, other than the buzzing of Wes’ heart that he could hear pounding in his ears.

Wait, buzzing?

His cellphone was ringing. As was Travis’.

And before either of them could say another word, they were heading out of the room and back towards the precinct.

* * *

By the next morning, the drug bust that they'd been called back for was over, with nothing left to do but finish up the reports. Wes sat in front of his computer, trying to remember whether he'd shot the suspect in the left leg or the right one, his fingers poised over the keyboard without moving.  Across from him, Travis leaned back, twisting a pair of paperclips into a crude representation of a person.  Wes bit his lip to avoid asking Travis what he'd written.

Ever since leaving Dr Ryan’s, the two of them had said nothing more to each other than a brief _‘I’ve got the back door’_ and _‘You should have had him covered’_.  The bust had taken less than an hour from the time they got the call, and as soon as the suspect was cuffed and in the back of a police car, they both left without even a goodbye.  Wes had tried to ignore the whispered gossip about their "marriage problems" as he walked into the precinct that morning.

He understood the rumors though.  While it wasn’t unusual for him to be fighting with Travis, whatever had happened this time was worse than he could remember from recent history. Even when they’d fought before, it had never lasted longer than a few hours, and it had never felt so...big. 

He’d driven from Dr Ryan’s office in some kind of trance, barely aware of the instructions coming across the radio, or the sound of his sirens. Instead, Travis’ words had gone around in his head over and over again.

“...dated a guy called Shawn...”  
“...he dumped me...”  
“...broke my goddamn heart...

Travis was apparently bisexual. So Dr Ryan had been right; Travis _had_ managed to reveal something about himself that Wes didn’t already know.  Wes had been awake most of the night, wondering what Shawn was like.  After all, anyone - male or female - who managed to stick with Travis for 18 months was someone Wes was interested in knowing more about.  He wondered how well Shawn fit the description Travis had given before his crazed outburst.  Was Shawn blond?  Was he taller than Travis?  He tried to picture Travis in a relationship with someone like that and realized that it felt right.

But the thing that kept Wes awake the rest of the night was questioning why Travis had never told him before. He'd thought they were past having to hide things from each other, but this suddenly made it clear that whatever the reason was, Travis apparently didn’t trust him.

“Mitchell! Marks! My office. Now.”

Captain Sutton bellowed from his office with that distinct tone that indicated it was wiser to not wait before responding.  Wes stood up without making eye contact with Travis, and walked over to Captain Sutton’s office. He didn’t bother to check if Travis was following him, but he heard footsteps behind him.

There were new candles in the office, and the lights were dimmed. The hum of a white noise generator filled the room as did the distinctive smell of oranges. Wes didn’t want to know what particular branch of craziness the Captain had chosen to follow this week, but was pretty sure that they hadn’t been summoned to share a cup of lavender tea.

“The two of you are being more obnoxious than usual,” he started without any preamble. He was sitting in the middle of the room in what Wes suspected was supposed to be some kind of meditation pose but made him look more like he was stuck there and couldn’t get up. “There are bets being placed on which one of you will draw your gun first this time.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s my turn, Captain,” Travis answered. Wes turned his head to look at him, expecting a grin, but instead Travis looked completely serious, as though he was actually contemplating pulling his gun on Wes.

“I... we just had an intense session with Dr Ryan,” Wes responded, not wanting to go into the details with anyone else. “We’ll be fine.”

Sutton shook his head. “You two will literally be the death of me.” He rolled over onto his knees and attempted to stand up. Wes watched, unsure of the correct protocol and whether he should offer to help or ignore the fact that his boss resembled a turtle trying to roll back onto its feet.

Eventually Sutton managed to stand, his face red and his breath harsh.

“I’ve got a case for you both, and you’re going to hate it, but you’re going to do it because you’ve pissed me off too many times and this is your punishment.”

* * *

They stood outside the nightclub and Wes sighed. “I can’t believe we got lumbered with this.”

It was just after midday, and the flashing sign above the door of the club was turned off, but the letters were still visible. ‘The Huff’ was popular among out-of-towners who came for the novelty of visiting a nightclub owned by a celebrity. No one local would ever have gone there voluntarily.

David Husslehuff had been an actor, a singer, a TV presenter and a reality show star before deciding to open a club. In truth, he was nothing more than the money and a face to be seen in the VIP section, but naive tourists lapped it up, loving the opportunity to say they’d partied with a famous person.  To the police department, Husslehuff was just as well known, but as someone to be avoided if possible. He would make reports about once a month stating that he believed the mafia were using his club as meeting place, or assassins were taking jobs in the VIP lounge.

This time it was a drug deal that he somehow knew was due to go down that evening.

Under normal circumstances, the Huff jobs were allocated to the newest and most naive officers, or those just returning from medical leave. Or apparently, as on this occasion, to the detectives who had most pissed off the Captain.

“Let’s just get this done and get back to actual detecting,” Travis said, stepping up to the door. He knocked as hard as he could, and they listened as the sound echoed inside.

From inside a deep voice called out. “I’ll be right there, just getting dressed.”

Wes shook his head and refused to think too much about why someone was apparently undressed in a nightclub in the middle of the day. He glanced over at Travis, who stopped smiling the moment he noticed Wes looking at him. Wes just sighed, vowing that – one way or another – they would get this mess between them sorted out soon.  Especially if the alternative was more cases like this.

Eventually, after several clicks and clunks of the various locks being turned, the door opened and Husslehuff himself stood inside.

He was dressed in a purple velvet suit, his shirt and waistcoat also in shades of purple, with a large purple fedora balanced at a precarious angle on his head. He was also, Wes believed, wearing more makeup than Alex had ever done in her life.

“Welcome to The Huff,” he said, his arms outstretched in greeting. “You must be the detectives that Captain Sutton promised to send around.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and ushered them both inside. “Come in, come in. Let’s get you a drink while we chat.”

“Just water for us both, please, Mr Husslehuff," Wes said as he followed the man across the empty dance floor.

“Call me Huff,” he replied,  ushering them to a corner booth and waved them both to take a seat before sliding in next to Travis.

The heating had been turned up ridiculously high in the club, and Wes knew that he'd be sweating before they made it back out of there. But that thought was balanced by one that reminded him Travis was wearing his leather jacket and his usual too-tight Henley, and would probably be a sweaty mess a lot sooner. 

Even without the traditional nightclub lights, the decor in the club was...interesting. Animal prints covered most of the surfaces, including the bar itself which was a nice zebra print.  The seats in the booth where they were sitting were silver-grey plastic with a tiger stripe pattern.  Wes tried not to wince as he sat down.

“I understand you believe that a drug deal may be about to happen here."  Travis started the conversation while Wes watched Husslehuff for any signs of lies or other involvement. 

"That’s right, detective. I’ve seen a very suspicious couple of men coming in here every couple of evenings for the last few months. They come in by themselves, always sit in the same corner, order nothing but Coke and then leave after about an hour.”

Travis and Wes exchanged a glance. “So you haven’t actually seen them do anything that looks like an actual drug deal?” Travis tried to clarify. “No brown envelopes being handed over? No actual sign of any drugs?”

Husslehuff seemed not to notice the sarcasm from Travis. “Well, no,” he admitted. “But there was definitely something suspicious. If you could just see them for yourselves...”

Wes knew exactly what was about to happen. He could almost hear the words in his head, like a premonition that he could never avoid.

“They’re due in tonight,” Husslehuff said brightly, the realization coming to him at the same moment that Wes noticed Travis shaking his head almost imperceptibly. “You could come in undercover and watch them. Blend in with the rest of the customers so they don’t notice you.”

* * *

They arrived back at the nightclub, after a brief pit-stop back at the precinct to grab a change of clothes. Wes was still wearing his suit pants, although he’d made a concession to the casual dress code of the club and had left his tie in his desk drawer and his suit jacket hung up next to the desk. Travis had somehow managed to find an entire new outfit, including a black pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt that looked like silk. Wes wondered if this was Travis’ emergency date outfit and when the last time was that he’d worn it.

“We should snag one of the tables,” Travis said to him as the doormen nodded them inside. “That way we can watch what’s going on in the corner without just standing around like idiots.” 

Wes realized that was probably the most Travis had said to him in almost 24 hours.  He was almost starting to miss Travis' bickering.  “I’ll get some drinks.”

He didn’t bother to ask what Travis wanted - it was just one of the many stupid, trivial pieces of knowledge that he already knew. Like knowing what Travis liked on his pizza ( _ham, pepperoni, onion_ ) and which side of the sofa he preferred to sit on to watch movies ( _the left, as long as he had the remote control_ ). 

As he waited at the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention, Wes looked around trying to identify anyone that might possibly look like a very obvious drug dealer.

When the bartender finally came over, he gave Wes a smile. “What can I get you, gorgeous?”

Wes felt himself blush and immediately hated himself. He knew he wasn’t that attractive, and that the bartender was only flirting to get a better tip, but it had been a long time since anyone had even said something like that in jest.  He made a show of checking the bartender out - they both knew it was part of the game - and couldn't help noticing the very blue eyes that were watching him. 

“Just two beers please,” he answered, trying not to be disappointed that the bartender’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Despite the lack of authenticity in the flirting, Wes still told him to keep the change as he handed over the money.

He walked back to the table that Travis had grabbed, scanning the dark corner behind it. “No sign of anyone yet,” he said, handing one of the bottles across the table. “See anything else interesting?”

Travis picked up the bottle and waved it towards the bar. “Other than you looking extremely uncomfortable about the two gay guys next to you at the bar?”

Wes was confused.  He'd not even noticed anyone next to him, and wouldn't have been uncomfortable about them even if he had. The only thing that had made him uncomfortable was the bartender's attention on him. 

“The blushing and stammering?” Travis added, not smiling.

Wes laughed out loud.  “You think that was me being uncomfortable? Oh my god, you think I’m homophobic!"

He was surprised that it had taken him this long to figure out what Travis' problem was.  It suddenly made a painful amount of sense.  For some inexplicable reason, Travis had thought that Wes was disgusted by his revelation. He actually thought that Wes had been pissed because Shawn had been a guy. That was possibly the funniest thing he’d heard in forever.

"I was blushing because the extremely hot bartender was flirting with me.”

This time it was Travis’ turn to look confused. “I’m going to go check out the... thing.” He waved his hand vaguely at the corner, and picked up his beer.

Wes was still shaking his head at the conversation as Travis walked away. He took full advantage of the situation to watch Travis and spent a moment appreciating how tight his partner’s jeans were.

More relaxed than he had been all day, Wes tapped his fingers against the table top in time with the music. He knew that Travis would soon realize how stupid they’d both been and this whole ridiculous argument would be over.

After only a few minutes, Travis came back towards him and slid onto the stool next to him.

“We’re being watched. And I’m sorry.”

If he was completely honest, Wes would admit that he’d considered kissing Travis on more than one occasion – usually when a lot more drunk than he currently was – but no matter what he’d thought about, it wasn’t this.

To an outsider, it probably looked like Travis’ hands were gently cradling the side of Wes’ face. In actuality, they were gripping him tight enough that he couldn’t get away if he’d wanted to. Travis had moved his stool closer as he’d sat down, and their legs were laced together, with Travis’ left foot hooked around Wes’ leg. While it was all designed to look like they were being passionate, Wes suspected that Travis thought he was about to run.

When Travis pulled himself away, he briefly turned to look behind him. “It’s okay, he’s gone.”

Wes stared at Travis, confused. “What? Who?”

“Sinclair,” Travis replied simply. “The guy from the sting that Janson and Kilivian put together last week?”

Glancing over Travis’ shoulder to check the corner, Wes was still confused.

The music was still thumping loudly around the club, but the two of them were close enough to each other, and far enough away from the dance floor that they could hear each other clearly.

“So that was just about keeping our cover?” he asked, unable to see anyone who might have been the cause of Travis' panic.

It was Travis’ turn to look confused. “Of course. What else would it be about?”

“Because you wanted to kiss me.”

There were two possible responses that Wes expected from his statement. Either Travis would laugh at him, or kiss him again. Neither would be disastrous, although if it was the first one, Travis would probably hold it against him for the rest of their lives.

“For crying out loud, Mitchell. You assume that because I’m into guys, I automatically want to jump your bones? Some ego trip there, buddy.”

Travis pushed away from the table - and Wes - and stormed out towards the exit.  

Wes dropped his head to the table, instantly regretting it as he felt a slight stickiness against his skin. The two of them had never been this out of sync before, not even during the whole gun-pulling episode. They argued constantly, but they’d never misunderstood each others’ meaning so repeatedly. It was worse than his separation from Alex.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wes spotted Husslehuff coming towards him, smiling and nodding at a dozen people who were ignoring him completely.

“Detective,” he said, loud enough that at least a few people must have heard him. So much for undercover. “I saw your partner just leave. Did something happen?”

For a crazy moment, Wes wanted to tell him the truth. Instead, he managed to cling to a sliver of professionalism. “We...um, he’s following a lead,” he said, getting up. “I actually need to follow him. Someone from the precinct will contact you tomorrow with an update.”

Before the eccentric man could follow him, Wes weaved his way through the crowds that were starting to gather, and made his way out of the club.

It was less than an hour from when they’d arrived, but the temperature had dropped a few degrees more and the sky was darker. He wished he'd not left his jacket at the precinct and shoved his hands in his pockets to try and keep them warm. 

He looked around as he headed down the alley towards where they’d parked the car, looking out for Travis, but there was no sign of his insane partner.  If he was honest, Wes had had more than enough and just wanted to go home. He decided that if he hadn’t heard from Travis by the morning, he’d drive over and try to sort things out. Chances were that Travis would call him in a couple of hours and ask for lift home.

When he got closer to the car, he noticed a figure sitting cross-legged on the hood. His hand automatically went to where the inside of his jacket would have been, if he was wearing it.  He remembered that he'd left his gun back in his desk drawer, working on the assumption that one of them being armed was probably enough for a drug deal that was never going to happen. 

“Going to shoot me?” Travis asked when they were close enough for Wes to be certain it was him.

He let his hand drop back to his side and took a few more steps until he was standing in front of Travis. “I might if you scratch my paintwork,” he said, offering his hand.

Travis accepted the help and Wes tugged him off the car until they were standing toe to toe.

“I’m sorry...” Wes started.

“I was a jerk,” Travis said at the same moment.

They both laughed, hesitantly, as though they weren’t sure if they were laughing at each other or themselves.

Travis tried to speak, but Wes shook his head. “Me first. So shut up.”

With a smile Travis mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

Wes couldn’t help his eye-roll. “Look, what you said the other day about that guy.”

“Shawn. Sorry. Shutting up again.”

“About Shawn. I wasn’t disgusted that you’ve slept with men, or that you’re bisexual. Hell, it's not like I'm entirely straight either.”

He ignored the raised eyebrow from Travis, who mercifully kept quiet this time.

“I was pissed that you felt you had to hide that from me. That you kept a secret from me.”

He took a deep breath.

“And that thing in there? About the kissing? What I said may have just come out wrong. I wasn’t accusing you of wanting to kiss me just because I’m a guy. I was trying to ask if you maybe wanted to... I mean....”

“If I wanted to kiss you because I’ve been pining over you for months?” Travis suggested, all pretence of silence apparently now abandoned. But his tone wasn’t accusatory. It was softer, more questioning. “You wanted to ask if I’d been thinking about kissing you since the first moment we met? Or if I was interested in maybe doing more than just kissing you?”

Wes dropped his head, feeling the tell-tale blush creep up his face.

“The answer to all of those is yes, by the way.”

Travis reached out, putting his finger under Wes’ chin and lifting his head. “Look at me, Wes. I’m trying to not keep any more secrets from you.”

In the end, it was Wes who made the final move, closing the gap between them. This time, the kiss was gentler than the one in the club, and Wes felt Travis wrap his arms around him.

For the first time in more than 24 hours, they were finally back in sync.  They moved with a rhythm that Wes realized that he'd missed and everything suddenly felt perfect again.

“Detectives!” From the darkness of the alley they heard Husslehuff’s voice and the two of them reluctantly stepped apart.

“Detectives,” he repeated as he jogged towards them, breathing heavily. “I’m so glad I caught you before you left.”

Travis smiled at Wes before replying. “Oh we’re thrilled that you did.”

“They’re here,” Husslehuff said, leaning on the car as he tried to catch his breath. “The drug dealers. They’re here. Now.”

“Of course they are,” Wes muttered to himself. He turned to Travis. “We’ll finish this other thing later, okay?”

“Definitely,” Travis said with another smile, this one making Wes’ stomach churn. He knew that they were finally on the same wavelength, and they both wanted the same thing this time. No more secrets. No more lies.

“Let’s go catch some bad guys.”


End file.
